Poems 



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of the 



Red, White f^ Blue 



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EMELINE TATE WALKER 



Chapter Poet 

Chicago Chapter, D. A. R. 



POEMS 



OF THE 



Red, White and Blu 



BY 



EMELINE TATE WALKER 

Chapter Poet 
Chicago Chapter, D. A, R. 



? 



CHICAGO 

R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS COMPANY 
1903 



r 

LIBRA "TY of CONGRESS 
Twq^ Copies Received 

JAN 20 1904 

Copyright Ent 

Ci-ASS, *- ^v. 

' COPY 



[c. No. 






Copyright, 1903 
EMELINE TATE WALKER 



L'ENVOE 

GO, LITTLE BOOKLET, LET THY MISSION BE: 

INTO EACH "daughter's'" HEART TO WHISPER "LOYALTY." 

E. T. W. 



List of poems written for the Chicago Chapter, 
D. A. R., by Emeline Tate Walker : 

Mother of Patriots 

The New Century 

Salutation to the Flag 

The Maine 

Centennial of Washington's 

Farewell Address 
My Garden Fairy 
When My Ship Comes In 
September 
Mother Bailey 
Flag Day 

Hymn for the D. A. R. 
Patriots' Flower 
Continental Memorial Hall 
The Evacuation of Boston 
Rosemary 

He Did What He Could 
Salutation to America 



Continental Memorial Hall 
I 

" Land of the Free, " deep love for thee 
In song and prose and po-e-sy 

Hath found a theme 
From the first hour the Pilgrim Band 
Their wandering feet pressed on thy sand 
Till the soft chime that rang so clear 
The stroke of thy one hundredth year 

Fulfilled their dream. 

II 

The history of those early days 
In quaint old madrigals and lays 

To us a glimpse doth give, 
Of struggles, hardships, courage proved, 
The tenderness with which they woo'd, 

The fireside life they lived. 

Ill 

'Twere well for us who now do reap 
The harvest sown by them — asleep 

Upon their country's breast — 
Each slumberer's place to mark with care 
"Lest we forget" them lying there 

So quietly at rest. 

5 



IV 

From the fair East, where stars of night 
Pale earUest at incoming Ught, 

To wonderous "Golden Gate," 
That closes as the dying day- 
Slips into shadows cold and gray 

Their ashes — life doth wait. 

V 

Until the years, so swift and brief, 
Are told in bud and fallen leaf — 

And night winds cease to blow 
A requiem in each passing breeze 
Midst grass and daisies and the trees, 

Where patriots lie below. 

VI 

To them, our fathers, we would raise, 
A Fane Memorial to the days 

Of Revolution time; 
The splendor of whose victories show 
In Liberty — the afterglow 

Your legacy — and mine. 

VII 

Poets have sung of wondrous art 
"In elder days, when every part 

Was wrought with nicest care:" 
The marble leaf, and flower of stone, 
Bloomed not for mortal eyes alone 
For " God's saw everywhere. " 
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VIII 

But in this Temple to our sires — 
Votive — from hearts — whose altar fires 

Burn with a steady flame, 
Without a fear — the vine, and scroll 
By cunning workmen shall unroll 

Perfect — in memory's name. 

IX 

Stone upon stone, up to the skies 
The "Continental Hall" shall rise. 

And every daughter's heart 
Shall beat a loyal sweet refrain 
Memorial to the fathers slain — 

And I have been my part. 



The Flag 



Out in the West where the sunsets die, 

And days Hnger longest to gladden the eye ; 

In the South, where the citron and orange-trees bloom 

And the golden fruit ripens, mid sweetest perfume; 

In the East, where the earliest flush of the dawn, 

So silently heralds a day newly born — 

O'er all our loved land, from sea unto sea, 

Hail, emblem of liberty, "Flag of the free"! 

When the lamps of the night are alight over head, 
Departing day gives us yon color — the red; 
The nebulous clouds of luminous light 
Another tint adds, and gives us the white; 
The glorious stars, in their azure blue vault, 
Were the last heavenly hint from which you were 
wrought. 

Then fling from the casement — wave aloft to the breeze, 
Above crowded streets and beneath leafy trees, 
The "stars and the stripes" — let them float overhead 
Till the light of the day dies in purple and red. 

Inspirer of courage — with sunset's bright tints, 
Holding hope in your folds in the white stars imprints — 
From the North to the South, from sea unto sea. 
We give thee our homage — our heart's loyalty. 

8 



Hymn for the "Daughters of the 
American Revolution ** 

Tune : Webb 

I 

Daughters, lift up your voices, and let your songs arise — 
A fragrant incense-offering to hallowed memories. 
It breathes a hero's spirit, in many a battle hour: 
It breathes of Christian patience, bom of an unseen 
power. 

II 

When o'er the waste of water the little Pilgrim band, 
With hearts that did not falter, sought out this far-off 

land, 
Amid the snows of winter they prayed upon its sod, 
The words the bleak winds echoed were, "Liberty and 

God. " 

III 

Be ours their daughters' mission these mem'ries to 

retain — 
In song, and in tradition, our sires shall live again. 
America, dear country, our prayer shall rise for thee — 
The gift our fathers left us, a blood-bought legacy. 



Mother Bailey 



Where ebbs and flows the ever-changing tides 
Of the bkie Thames as to the Sound it glides, 
Where stately ships as in the days of yore 
Sail in and out through beacon-lighted door, 
Stands Groton, town of Revolution days, 
Bathed in the glow of patriotic rays. 

II 

The passing years that come and softly go 
No shadows cast upon this after-glow; 
From the deep crimson of the hearts' blood shed 
On Groton bank where bravest heroes bled; 
And stars at night, in turn their vigil keep, 
Above the graves where patriots lie asleep. 

Ill 

Never again for them the call To Arms ! 
The strife for freedom and red wars alarms. 
In 1 78 1, with summer's wane, 
The fallen leaf lay lightly on the slain, 
Their day was finished at the set of sun 
But Liberty for thee 'twas just begun. 

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IV 

Throughout our land their names engraved shall be 

In lines of prose and tender poesy, 

And she who hasted to that carnage wild, 

To bring the dying soldier's little child, 

Laying it on his breast that he might see 

Last upon earth the smile of infancy, 

V 

She is my theme; when past life's hour of noon, 
Again she heard the British cannon boom, 
'Twas 1 813, so the records say, 
Decatur and Fort Trumbull kept at bay 
The fleet of " Red Coats, " who in hostile power 
Waited impatient at the harbor door. 

VI 

The month was June, when buds to blossom burst, 
And feathered choirs among the trees rehearse 
The songs they sing when brooding-time is nigh 
And falls the notes of birdlings hush-a-by, 
The time when lambs are frisking in the fields. 
And nature hints of summer's bounteous yields. 

VII 

Amidst the sunshine, prows turned toward the sea, 
Stood forth the ships, in number only three. 
Facing that foe remembered, oh, so well, 
"When Arnold burned the town, and Old Fort 

Griswold fell. " 
The patriots' blanched cheeks their apprehension 

showed — 
But in their eyes the flame of courage glowed. 
II 



VIII 
Then spake Decatur to his gallant crew, 
Must we again our homes in ashes view ? 
Shall we like mown grass on the fields wide 

spread 
For want of wadding lie, a vanquished dead? 
Swift send the runners, scour the country o'er. 
For shawls and blankets, that our guns may roar. 

IX 

Now, Mother Bailey's hate of British rule 

Had been well grown in stem Experience's school, 

In '8 1 and 1812, you see. 

Her loved ones fell and died for liberty. 

Thus through the years these days marked long 

ago, 
Their memory burned with steady after-glow. 

X 

Children and youths, poets and statesmen, came, 

E'en Presidents sought out this honored dame; 

Beside her hearth they fought the battles o'er 

And lived again the Revolution War, 

Kindling anew the patriotic fires. 

With thrilling tales of ancestors and sires. 

XI 

Into a blaze of passionate surprise 
Burst forth these flames, as now before her eyes 
She saw the enemy in their ships appear, 
And heard the rtmners, as with voices clear 
Along the street they shouted and appealed 
For wadding, "e'er the city's doom was sealed." 
12 



XII 
Quick as a flash, and with impatient hand, 
The scissors gleamed, and cut in two the band 
That held her girdle — on the ground it lay, 
A petticoat of flannel, red and gay. 
The soldiers shouted, as on pikestaff borne 
It waved their ensign on that bright June mom. 

XIII 
In late October, when the golden-rod 
To purple asters bowed a courteous nod ; 
When in the fields the ripening grain did stand, 
Waiting the sickle in the reaper's hand, 
Decatur won the battle ; and I know 
That petticoat helped overcome the foe. 

XIV 

From out the past the names of heroes shine, 
And bright among them, Mother Bailey, thine 
GlowSjWith a luster from this simple deed. 
Done for thy country in her hour of need; 
Surely a lesson we may learn from you. 
What lieth nearest is the thing to do. 



13 



Flag Day 



I 

In trailing robes, among the myriad stars 

The Queen of Shadows walked with noiseless tread; 
Her one attendant acolyte fierce Mars, 

His torch alight with spark of living red. 

II 

No echoing steps betrayed her passing reign 

Only heaven's lamps burned low with dimming light 

The world turned on its pillow once again, 

From sleep and dreams, to greet the coming light. 

Ill 

Aurora peeping through to morrow's door, 

On tiptoe stood, impatient to be free; 
That she might dance on mountain, hill, and moor, 

And ride the waves of ocean and of sea, 

IV 
Into the grayness of the early dawn. 

The sun his arrows shot — white, red, and gold. 
Nature — her eyelids lifting to the morn — 

Beheld the day in sunrise glories told. 

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V 

Catching the crimson and the pearly white 
From fleecy cloud and rosy radiant hue ; 

Our flag unfolded to its birthday light, 
And meteor stars fell on its field of blue. 

VI 

To-day its birth we celebrate and keep, 
And where its colors wave on land or sea, 

By strong salt wind and heath of flowers sweet 
We waft the message of our loyalty. 



15 



The Patriots' Flower 
I 

Throughout every clime there are gardens most fair 
Glowing with hues the bright rainbows wear, 
Whose flowers of purple, of crimson, and blue 
(With a chalice of gold for holding the dew) 
Caught their heavenly colors, at close of the day, 
When sunset's bright glories show Paradise Way. 

II 

At the fall of the leaf, with bright Summer's "good 

by," 
The flowers of these gardens fade, wither, and die; 
Then the big droning bee knows the blossoms are gone, 
No more for sweet honey he seeks them at morn ; 
The fire-fly's lamp lights the place where they lie. 
And the katydid's song is their last lullaby. 

Ill 

But there is a garden whose borders are pressed 
By the white-crested waves of two oceans' unrest; 
Where tall mountains rise, capped with purest of snow, 
High above the lost clouds in the valleys below; 
Where bread for the millions in golden grains stand, 
Waving eager consent to the gathering hand ; 
Where rivers in musical rhythm do flow. 
And Liberty's breath wafts the breezes that blow. 

i6 



IV 

It sighs 'midst the needles of sweet spicy pine, 
And beats 'gainst the poplars in soldier-like line. 
The Oak and the Elm, with branches wide spread, 
Wave a deep salutation, as over their heads 
It passes to touch with tenderest care 
The sensitive Aspen found quivering there. 
The Maple doth blush at its Autumn caress, 
Every leaf in a rustle of crimson protest. 

V 

Oh! wonderful garden, where nature is seen 

"In brightest of crystal and purest of green," 

I've found 'midst thy blossoms a theme for my song, 

'Tis the "Patriots' Flower," and to "Daughters" 

belongs. 
In the North and the South, in the East and the West, 
They're searching to find thee, thou sweetest and 

best, 
Whose fragrance and beauty bursts forth from the 

seeds, 
Of their ancestors' courage and heroic deeds. 

VI 

No heat of the summer, no frost, nor the cold, 
The years of the Past nor the Future's untold, 
Shall wither thy beauty, or fade the soft hue 
Of thy velvety cheek, tinged with heaven's own blue, 
A deathless " For-get-me-not, " blooming to show 
Where the garden's defenders lie sleeping below, 
Until the day dawns, and earth's shadows all flee. 
And the good and the brave are at home, Lord, with 
thee. 

17 



A Salutation to the Flag 

Hail, happy morning, bright and fair. 
With Spring's sweet fragrance on the air, 

From blossoming trees and flowers, 
The grass is growing fresh and green 
O'er all the land its touch is seen, 

'Twill soon be summer's hours. 
Above our heads, the empty nests 
Again are filled with feathered breasts 

And brooding mother bird 
The cricket chirrups his homely lay 
And in the sedge — by roadside way — 

The croaking frog is heard. 
Oh ! wondrous day of leafy June 
Our loyal hearts beat in attune, 

To nature and to thee. 
Against the blue in upper air 
The stars and stripes float everywhere, 

The emblem of the free. 
Where the first fresh of early dawn 
Heralds the coming of the morn 

Along New England's main, 
To the fair land, where sun's last rays 
Lingering doth yield the passing days 

To dark night's somber reign. 

i8 



Flyeth the flag — by breeze caressed, 
In colors of the sunset dressed, 

And lighted by the stars. 
And on the ocean deep and vast, 
Guarding the ship at mizzenmast, 

It floats above the tars. 
Upon the land, upon the sea. 
Wave, Emblem of our Liberty, 

And for all souls oppressed, 
A beacon glow with steady light 
To point the way where right is might. 

America — most blessed. 
God and our country, then to thee, 
Flag of the brave our fealty ! 

Until our hearts are stilled. 
And we like tired children rest 
With folded hands on quiet breast, 

Our earthly mission filled. 



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